


In the Shadow of a Doubt

by newyorktopaloalto



Series: Five to Nine (or Half-Past Two) [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Politics, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, DC comics - Freeform, M/M, Politics, The West Wing - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 03:58:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8313154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newyorktopaloalto/pseuds/newyorktopaloalto
Summary: Or; the one where the gang reads unclassified CIA documents, devises a plot against Senator Rogers, and faces another internal leak. It's basically just an ordinary day in the life of the White House senior staff.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A brief and sweet interlude in my Five to Nine series. 
> 
> The plan is to have a major arc (consisting of three, chaptered stories) and a few interludes dispersed throughout.
> 
> (Just a note— this interlude is neither brief nor sweet.)

##### I.

“I think you should just leave me. Let me stay here, underneath this pile of classified documents, to live out the rest of my paltry life as the goblin of the white house— scaring interns and giving out riddles to all of the little congresspeople.” 

“So exactly like your actual life.”

Tony removed the file from his face and scowled, ineffective due to the bedraggled air about him. “You don’t have to be so blunt about it.” 

“I brought you breakfast.” 

“I lied, you can say whatever you want about me.” 

James gave Tony a half-smile as the other man groaned his way into a sitting position. After a perfunctory clean around the couch to tidy up the small pile of folders that had accumulated, Tony waved a hand for James to sit. 

“Thanks for the food.”

“I was gonna cook breakfast before work, so…” he shrugged. 

“Still, thank you. I’m getting too old for this wake up at 3AM and work until midnight shtick.” 

“I’ll believe that when you stop calling yourself a ‘a goddamned political genius, James, if I’m not at this meeting the entire political process will collapse!’” 

“Okay, Mr. Hyperbole.” 

A snort interrupted him. 

Tony glared again. “Slightly hyperbolic.” 

“It was four hours ago.” 

“Exactly! You know what they say about memory and time and memory after time has passed…” 

“No, tell me what they say, Tony.” 

There was a long pause. “It doesn’t matter what they say.”

“Sure, of course.” 

“Are you just here to irritate me, James?” 

“No. I have a meeting with the general in half an hour, so I figured I’d give you this quarter’s MARIGOLD numbers beforehand.

“And, you know, breakfast.” 

Tony grinned and leaned over, giving James a sloppy kiss. “I love the fact that I can get the numbers on time now.” 

“So _that’s_ what you’re using me for.” 

“And now you know my secret plan— what are you gonna do about it?” 

“Nothing _now_.”

“Probably the only time that threat has given me a good feeling.” 

“Do you want the numbers, babe, or do you want to terrible flirt with me more?” 

Tony scoffed. “Like I started it, _honey_ , but please, give me the numbers— I want to surprise Jean with them, she’s not happy this morning.” 

James cleared his throat to hesitate. “Well, I don’t think you’d want to give them to her as good news, per se.” 

Tony finished chewing his last bite, and swallowed, giving James a suspicious glance. “That’s not what I want to hear at seven in the morning, running solely on caffeine and adrenaline.” 

“It’s not something you’d want to hear at any particular time, under any circumstances.” 

“Great.”

##### II.

“Starting tomorrow, Clint is going to set up in-house polling, so make sure that you get any questions you want to be included to Sam by this afternoon. Luthor has a press conference scheduled in an hour, so I would hold the HB 18A64 leak until your evening briefing, Jean. Anthony, I cannot meet with Speaker Carter, so I need you to convince her about letting the riders stay on the bill for the floor vote this afternoon.

“That is everything for this morning, I will see you all after lunch.” 

Ororo stood up from her desk, the rest of the senior staff taking her lead as they started filing out of the office. 

“Anthony, if you could stay for a moment.” 

“Oooooh, Tony’s in trouble,” Sam sing-songed, slinging his arm across Jean’s shoulders as she laughed. 

The door closed behind them, shutting off any hope for Tony to respond. 

“What’s up, buttercup?” he asked, aiming for nonchalance and landing on glib. 

“You were Rogers’ campaign manager for his first run in Senate.” 

“Yes.” 

“You were also his chief of staff for his first six months in office.” 

“I was.” He sighed. “Where are you going with this?” 

“They can’t have changed for running a campaign that much from what worked for them best before— you gave him your best.” 

“I always give my best.” 

Ororo nodded, holding up her hand in a staying movement. 

“All I meant to say was that out of everyone, you know what his campaign team is most likely to do. I would like to have a few meetings with you over the next week, we can go over the strategies you used with Rogers to get him into Congress— we can also discuss ways to beat you at your own game.” 

Tony grimaced and ran his hand through his hair warily. “I knew I would have to go up against a formidable opponent at some point in the upcoming election cycle, I just never imagined it would be myself from the distant past.” 

“Life always does pit oneself against what one fears the most.” 

“Please don’t get wisdom-y, it’s… unsettling.” 

“I mostly just wanted to see the look on your face, Anthony.”

“I know I’m gorgeous, you’re just flattering—” he stopped himself, left eye narrowing as his right brow twisted up, “You should watch out for Rogers using his ‘aw, shucks!’ apple-pie, fake midwest-y… thing. He knows he’s— handsome,” the word sounded pained coming out, “and he _will_ use it to his advantage; that’s why he does the ‘good, wholesome, corn-fed American boy’ song and dance.

“Any call-out on that demeanor is sure to fall flat, especially in the wake of my,” he paused, “unfortunate remarks about him five months ago.” 

“Oh, yes, the one that prompted him to announce his candidacy for the presidency.” 

Tony swallowed down the sudden taste of bile in the back of his throat. “Yeah, that one. Anyways, I have a metric shit-ton of work to do, Ororo, so I’ll just have Pepper contact Armando about setting up a meeting for later today? Okay, bye.” 

He fled the room before she could get a word in edgewise. 

“You want company?” 

Bruce stepped into pace with him, quick strides making sure they left the building quickly. Tony didn’t think to reply, he didn’t know what his response would even be. 

“Someone from the Times found a picture of Jean from when she was in middle school and now the press is all poking fun at her.” 

The non-sequitur made him glance up. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the fence before replying. 

“Do you think Rogers would be running against us if I hadn’t said what I did to the press earlier in the day?” 

Bruce paused. 

“I think his decision to run stems from a lot of perceived grievances to his agenda from this office.” 

Tony snorted. “A politician’s answer.” 

“I write for one of the world’s biggest, so…

“Honestly, though? He would have run no matter what— I think you just sped up the timeline in which he decided to announce it. Which, when you think about it, is a good thing; his early announcement allows us better preparation.”

“I guess.” 

“Hey, no matter what happens, in these four years, we can make a difference— and I think that’s the most important thing to remember, especially when we’re running around like headless chickens because of the election. Our responsibility is to the constituents, we’re a government that works for the people.” 

He rolled his eyes at himself. “Or something, I don’t know, did that help?”

“You can’t even be pro-government in a motivational speech for your suffering best friend, you’re so hardcore.” 

Bruce shook his head fondly as Tony laughed. 

“I have the ability to sound _so_ fucking pro-government, I helped get a president elected. Your nonsense words mean nothing to me.”

“Help, I’ve been verbally assaulted by a commie, where’s HUAC when you really need it?”

##### III.

“The entire press corps is up his ass, I swear to God.” 

“The media loves the ‘fiscally-responsible’ democrats, don’t you know?”

“Fiscally-responsible? I think you mean the poster-child of neoconservatism?” 

“I was trying to be subtle.” 

Jean raised her hands in surrender. “I get it, you’re the Communications Director, it’s what you do, but come on, at least complain a little with me.” 

Sam gave her a half-grimace and a small shrug. “I agree with you, I do, it’s just—“

Jean hummed in realization. “I forgot, you were friends for awhile,” she amended herself, “a long while.” 

“Yeah.

“In hindsight, though, he is an expert media darling.” 

“Pretty sure that has Tony written all over it.” 

Sam nodded. “Oh yeah, one of the first things he did as campaign manager.” He paused. “That and hold a five hour inquisition to search for anything that could be construed as even remotely scandalous; it was hilarious, Rogers was literally squirming in his seat.”

“Oh my God, I wish I could have seen his face, it must have been—wait, what did you say Tony did?” 

“He questioned Rogers for five— holy shit.”

“Did he find anything?” 

“I don’t know, he kept it all private, but I’m sure he must’ve, I mean, he _must’ve_. We need to find him.” 

They walked out of Sam’s office and immediately into Tony’s. 

“Hello, what’s with the rush? You look like lightning struck the lightbulb above your head.” 

“Do you remember the first day on the job as Rogers’ campaign manager?” 

Tony gave Bruce a bemused glance. “I mean, I guess. Why?” 

“You basically interrogated him.” 

“Yeah, I suppose. Like I asked before though, why?” 

“Tony, did you find out anything?” 

“You know I can’t say… anything…

“Jean, I have back-to-back meetings until, like, three, but after that we need to talk about how to do media on this— if we do, I’ll need to discuss it with Ororo.” 

“Sounds good.” 

She left, Bruce trailing in her wake. 

“You know anything you say could have backlash. There’s some things you know, that Rogers’ knows no one else does.” 

“It’ll be worth it.” 

“Tony,” Sam grabbed his shoulder, “it could end up being bad.” 

“It could. But if it does, then we didn’t do our jobs well enough, did we?” 

“Issues out of our control do exist, you know.” 

“Then _I’m_ not trying hard enough.”

##### IV.

“Did you know that the CIA had multiple projects where they consulted with psychics and other paranormal researchers?” 

Pepper raised her eyebrow and looked up at Armando from her desk. 

“I did not.” 

“New book came out, it’s really interesting, actually— you should check it out.

“Anyways, what I came for: I was with a new intern and they were talking about how this place had a weird vibe around it, and so I asked them what they meant, of course.” 

“Of course.” 

“And do you know what they said? They said we were all darting about as if the other shoe was about to drop, but we didn’t know when.” 

Pepper started to respond, stopped herself, and turned considering. 

“Basically how I reacted,” Armando agreed, shrugging and making a motion to leave. “I just thought you’d want to know, is all.” 

“Yeah, that is good to know,” Pepper started slowly, shaking her head a little at herself. “Thanks for coming over and telling me.” 

“No problem. And don’t forget to spread the hot goss about the CIA around, yeah? I want to see how far it can get by the end of the week.” 

“Please stop doing social experiments on the white house staff.” 

“Sure.” 

He left, whistling a tune that Jessica emulated as she walked past. 

“I don’t believe that man.” 

“Don’t believe who about what?” 

Pepper smiled blithely. “You, about actually getting all your files signed and in order by the end of the day.” 

“I’m taking that on as a challenge.” 

“It’s a challenge you fail at least once a week.” 

“And happily at that,” Tony agreed easily, taking the folders meant for him from the edge of her desk, flipping through them idly for a moment. 

“Can I help you with something, Tony?” 

“Nah, the Ambassador’s last meeting was late, so now he’s late for mine. I have nothing to do for about forty-five minutes.” 

“Do some paperwork. Or read your briefings. Or, I think the minority leader is still here, you can talk to him.” 

“Hilarious!” It was barked, before she could say anything else. “I’m gonna go and read my briefings.” 

“Did you know,” she started, feeling a brief moment of pity for the man, “that the CIA used psychics and ghost hunters in their projects?” 

“I did not, that is _phenomenal_ , I love it. Honestly, now I want a psychic on retainer.” 

“I can imagine the internet’s reaction to that budget item. On retainer, psychic. Consulting fee: $463/hour.” 

“… I really wish I could get paid 463 dollars an hour.” 

“Don’t we all. 

“Now go read your briefings, the public needs you.” 

“I am the world’s greatest superhero: working the grind for the good of the public.” 

Pepper huffed a laugh. “Go, dumbass.” 

Tony stuck out his tongue and swaggered to his office, the door shutting firmly behind him.

##### V.

“California declared a state of emergency.”

“I’ve heard.” 

“Are you… going to say anything about it?” 

“Yeah, I’ll mention it.” 

America made a face and ran her fingers through her hair briefly. 

“Okay, let me rephrase that question: do you need anyone to write anything about the state of emergency California just declared?” 

“I’m fine, America, it’ll be two or three lines at the end of my briefing— this isn’t a _new_ story, the press is getting kind of sick of it.” 

“They’re getting sick of multiple wildfires so out of control the entire freaking state is affected? Do they comprehend how big California is?”

Jean quirked a smile. “Do you?” 

“163,696 square miles. It’s the 8th largest economy in the world. One state. 8th largest economy in the world.” 

“It’s big, I agree. But the press could not give less of a shit— it’s not an interesting story. A wildfire; in California? Groundbreaking.” 

“Okay.”

She cleared her throat. “Then I’m going to my meeting, if you don’t need me for anything else, Jean.” 

“Actually, if you could set up a meeting with Betty Ross for tomorrow?” 

“The reporter?” 

“Yeah. I owe her a favor, and what she’s getting in return is bigger than what she gave Tony.” 

“Why?” 

Jean shrugged and gave America an enigmatic grin. 

“You’ll think of it soon, you’ve been working with me for long enough. 

“And before you go, Tony told me the damnedest thing about the CIA just a little while ago…”

##### VI.

“Ways and Means is here.” 

“Thanks, Pep.” 

She hesitated. 

“What?” 

“She sent Maximoff.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“She sent—“

“I know what you said, it was an exclamation.” 

Pepper raised her eyebrow, unimpressed. 

“Sorry.” He groaned. “Send him in, I guess.” 

He schooled his features in the ten seconds it took for Maximoff to enter his office. 

“How can I help you, congressman?” 

He looked uncomfortable, Tony didn’t know whether it was the environment or the question, but he didn’t much care; he hoped beyond all hope that the junior congressman never found his footing. 

“So, Gamora, I mean, congresswoman Zen, sent me here to tell you that all members on Ways and Means are going to be endorsing Senator Rogers in the upcoming election.” 

“All the members on Ways and Means are going to be supporting Rogers.” 

Maximoff nodded and rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, a slight flush high in his cheeks. 

“Yes.” 

Tony let out a breath and stood up. “Thank you for letting me know, congressman, I’ll call congresswoman Zen and discuss this further with her.” 

“Well, she actually said—“

“She’ll take my call.” 

He led Maximoff out and watched him leave the fishbowl, keeping his stare on the other man’s back until he couldn’t see it anymore. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a long breath before walking into Sam’s office. 

“Hi, are you busy?” he looked around. 

“Okay, you aren’t, and we have a problem.” 

“Okay, I was, and what’s the problem?”

“Ways and Means.” 

“What about them?” 

Tony flopped onto the chair across the desk from Sam’s. 

“They’re going to support Rogers.” 

“Zen told you that in your meeting?” 

“She sent Maximoff.” 

A pause. Tony snorted, not at all amused, but grinning nonetheless. 

“What the fuck?”

“I know.” 

“She sent the most junior member of her committee?” 

“Sam, I _know_.

“I’m going to call her once we get a plan.” 

“She sent Maximoff and you think she’ll take your call?” 

“I helped her get fucking elected— and stay elected, she’ll take my call.” 

“Or else?” 

“Or goddamn else.”

Sam sighed. “Okay, let me finish this up, I’ll snag Bruce from where I have him working on the Jimenez thing, and we’ll do… something.” 

Tony stood and gripped his hair, tight enough for a moment for his brain to clear, before letting his hands drop to his side.

“Why is it that good days turn into bad ones, and bad days somehow turn even worse?” 

“Murphy’s Law.” 

“Thanks.” 

“No problem.” 

“Call me when you’re done?” 

“Bruce and I will just barge into your office.” 

“Okay.”

##### VII.

“Commander Barnes, please, sit down.” 

James glanced between the two men in the airy office. 

“Being White House counsel will get you a view, if nothing else.” 

“Long hours is the nothing else, and like you can even appreciate the view, Matt.” 

James sat down amidst the banter, relaxing despite himself. 

“Why did you ask me here?” 

“I’m Franklin Nelson, White House counsel, I don’t think we’ve officially met. Next to me is Matt Murdock, deputy counsel.” 

“Commander James Barnes, which you are full aware of. What am I doing here?” 

Nelson waved his hand. “Nothing you need to worry about, I’m just obligated to speak with everyone about the leaks.” 

“The first leak happened before I got here. And wasn’t it just, like, a regular staffer?” 

“I will not ask how you got that information, considering you aren’t supposed to know it.” 

James shut himself up. 

“Did you ever, in either an official or unofficial capacity, speak about the White House leaks with Brock Rumlow?” 

“I did not.” 

“Did you ever, in either an official or unofficial capacity, speak to Brock Rumlow in any manner?” 

James squinted as he thought. “Yeah, a couple of times.” 

“What did the two of you speak about?” 

“God, I don’t know.” 

“Take your time to think about it.” 

“Probably just about me being the new guy— it was my first week or so here, he asked if I wanted to get lunch, I think, but I already had plans with Tony and all those guys.” 

“And the second time?” 

He shrugged and shook his head a bit. “I could honestly not tell you.” 

Nelson cleared his throat and Murdock started clicking the end of his pen. 

“You see, we’ve asked you here because Mr. Rumlow mentioned you. Several times, actually.” 

James’ eyes narrowed. “I thought you were obligated to speak with everyone about the leaks.” 

“You’re our last.” 

He paused. 

“You should tell your assistant that you’ll be here for a while. We’ll order in lunch.” 

“What did he say about me?” 

“Who, Commander?” 

“You know exactly who.” 

“Well, Commander, that’s what we’re here to find out. So how about you tell us what he would be saying about you?” 

It was a question encased in steel and James felt his axis tilt the slightest bit. 

“I—“ he shook his head again, “I honestly have no clue.” 

“Then we’ll stay here and talk until we can work it out. 

“You should probably call your assistant now.”

##### VIII.

“To be fair, it’s just one committee. I mean, it’s a blow, but it’s one committee in the House; it’s not like all 535 members of Congress are in agreement.”

“If every congress member manages to agree on something the Apocalypse is neigh and we have bigger problems than re-election.” 

Jean glared at Bruce and continued. 

“So it’s not great, but it’s not the worst situation we’ve been in. We can get Zen and the rest of her committee back.” 

“Okay, but if they’ve already decided to support him, they must have already told some of their allies. They’re not going to want us blackmailing them or whatever for support for the President, and telling others will give them the leverage not to.” 

“That’s only if they think the people they talked to would support their decision in dividing the party come the election.” 

“And that’s why I was saying that they’ve already told other members of Congress about their decision.” 

Sam interrupted Jean and Tony’s argument. “Okay, but we have a bigger question we need to answer. If Ways and Means talked to other congress members or not, it doesn’t actually matter at this point. What really matters is what Jean just said: will the centrists have the balls to split with the leftists? We’re about half and half in the party; we have to think about what we do if it happens— they’re not going to be happy being a minority voice in the party again, or if it will happen in the first place, or if, God forbid, Rogers wins the DNC.” 

“That’s a lot of ifs’.”

“A lot of things can happen in the next two years.” 

Bruce cleared his throat, interrupting the quiet that had come over the four too-still senior staffers. 

“We should also think about if we want to try and stop his campaign before it even starts.” 

He continued before their bemusement could turn into something else. 

“That’s what we were going to originally meet for, right? Sam was talking to me about those interrogation tapes or whatever that Tony had on Rogers and we were going to discuss the information.” 

“It wasn’t tapes—“

“Stop being pedantic, Tony, it doesn’t matter how you know the information, just that you _do_ know it. Depending on what you have, how we present it, and how both he and the media swallows it, he could be a problem we take care of before any symptoms can be presented.” 

Sam scrubbed a hand over his face. “There’s politics and then there’s _politics_ — this is verging into the latter.” 

“You have to play the game to stay in the kitchen.” 

“Sometimes you’re so banal.” 

“That hurts, Jean, I’d like to say that I’m ‘of the people.’” 

“So, banal?” 

“Is this really the time to make fun of me?” 

“If it’s really the time for you to be glib, yes.” 

Tony shrugged a shoulder and crossed his arms, slouching further down into the couch. “I agree with Bruce, if it matters. I think there’s some info I have that can be to Rogers’ detriment if employed correctly.” 

“I think we should talk to Ororo, but I don’t see the harm in having a few discussions about it.” 

They turned to look at Sam in close synchronicity. 

“As long as we think about the line and what it’s drawn in, I think we should at least talk about it. Rogers could… pose a problem, and it might be better to take out that problem before it metastases.” 

“So we’re in agreement?” 

Tony slapped his knees before standing up and continuing at their nods. 

“I’ll talk to Ororo before our after lunch meeting so I’m sure we get to have another completely demoralizing conversation about it later.” 

“Are you not lunching with us?” 

“Is it really that time?” 

He twisted around to look for a non-existent clock. 

“Almost. Close enough that since we’re all here, we should just get it over with.” 

“Maybe one day we’ll learn how to properly appreciate food.” 

“I highly doubt it, Bruce. Unfortunately our dual lack of time and motivation for anything other than ‘sustenance or pass out’ have ruined us for anything close to a discerning palate.”

“Too bad, I’d like to know the true meaning of ‘umami’.” 

“I think that just will have to stay one of those Great Mysteries of Life.” 

“I think the both of you are about five years late on that particular bandwagon.” 

Tony and Bruce’s ‘it’s the damn job!’ did nothing to assuage Sam’s amusement.

##### IX.

“You have a meeting.” 

“You were supposed to cancel all of my meetings until my three-thirty.” 

Kate Bishop nodded her head. 

“I did, he just… showed up.” 

“Who?” 

“Uh, Senator Rogers.” 

James blinked slowly, once, twice, before glancing into his office. Sure enough, the back of a triangle shaped torso greeted him. 

“Is it too much to ask for a day where I don’t feel like I’m getting thrown to the wolves?” 

“Most people would say yes, sir.” 

“I suppose. Before I go in there, do you have anything for me?” 

“Not really, no, sir. Oh! Did you know that the CIA used ghost hunters and psychics to solve their cases for them at one point? I heard that they still do, it’s just classified.” 

“I highly doubt that’s true.” 

“It’s in this new book, it’s like a fun fact.

“But other than that, do you want me to stall your three-thirty with the General?” 

James waved her off. “I’ll be out of this meeting and done with my catch-up by that time, thank you though, Kate.” 

“How did it go with the counsel, if I may ask?” 

“You may, and not that great, so…” he shrugged and took a couple of files off of Kate’s desk to bring into his office with him. 

“I’ll bring these back later.” 

It was Kate’s turn to wave him off and he stepped to his office door, taking a breath before walking in. 

“How can I help you, Senator?” 

He sat down at his desk, noting Steve’s eyes flickering down to his left hand. Against the embarrassed urge to hide his prosthetic, he instead raised an eyebrow and feigned annoyance. 

“I know that Senators can sit around and shoot the shit all day, but I have an actual job to do, so again, how can I help you, Senator?” 

“You’ve been here half a year and you sound exactly like the rest of them.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“You can take it however you want, I guess. But listen, Bucky, I came here for a reason.” 

“I figured as much. And I go by James now. I’d ask you to call me Commander Barnes, but I doubt you’d listen.” 

Steve’s expression settled in a cross between pained and determined and James was suddenly transported back to when they were kids and he’d witnessed Steve shooting back up from the pavement, bloody and righteous, receiving one punch after another. He staved off the bittersweet nostalgia clinging to the back of his throat and steeled himself. 

“What’s your reason?” 

“Is Tony talking about me?” 

The question actually threw James for a minute and he sat there, befuddled and trying to figure out what in God’s name Steve was doing. 

“What, are we in high school? I’m pretty sure he’d say no if you asked him to homecoming, sorry.” 

Steve seemed to bristle as his eyes darted around. 

“My office isn’t bugged. And even if it were, you wouldn’t be able to see them.”

“I meant, and I think you know this Bu— _James_ , if Tony was talking about me in a political sphere.” 

“Are you really trying this? Here? I work in the White House and you want me to, what? Tell you everything pertaining to your bid for the presidency? I mean even if there was the slightest chance I _wanted_ to, it’s ethically dubious.”

“But not illegal.” 

“Do I look like I care about the punctilious legality?” 

He paused and tilted his head. 

“Are you scared? Didn’t get as much initial support as you wanted? It has to be something— I won’t— I can’t believe you would exploit our prior friendship for something less than extremely important to you.” 

Steve stood up and held his hands in front of himself, placating. 

“Look, you’re right, I shouldn’t have come here expecting you to give me information. Your job is important to you, I get that, my job is important to me as well. I just thought, maybe, you hadn’t been—“ 

“Hadn’t been…?” 

“… Influenced yet.” 

“Influenced.” 

“Working here, or wanting to work here, it changes people. Especially considering the sort of people who you’re associating yourself with.” 

“You’re talking about Tony.” 

“And the rest of the senior staff, but yes. Tony’s not— he’s flashy and bright and egotistical and not at all what he makes himself out to be. His ambition gets the better of him in the end. He doesn’t truly care about anyone other than himself, I think.” 

“So, what, you thought you’d warn me?” 

Steve shrugged. “He’ll fool you, is all. 

“Listen, I _am_ sorry about ambushing you in your office asking for intel, that’s on me. We’ve known each other a long time, we have an undeniable bond, and you’re right, I shouldn’t have exploited that.” 

James felt off-kilter in a way he thought he’d left behind after his first week working in the west wing. 

“We should have lunch sometime, catch up.” 

Steve slipped a business card across the desk. 

“This is my personal number, call me anytime.” 

He walked out, seemingly unfazed by the total shift in conversation between the two of them. James clenched a fist, trying to ground himself as his brow furrowed. 

“What is your play, Rogers?” he asked himself, picking up the business card and twirling it around his fingers absent-mindedly.

##### X.

“I’m just saying— an emergency meeting can’t be good, it’s in the title!” 

“Ororo just calls them that so Pepper can actually get you here on time; which you fully know, and don’t pretend that you don’t.” 

“I have to agree with Tony on this one, though, Ororo sounded less composed than usual.” 

“I mean, of course you’d agree with Tony, when don’t you?” 

“Yesterday.” 

“Earlier today, actually.” 

“Excuse me, folks, the President is finishing up a meeting.” 

“Yes, Clark, that’s why we’re out here, with you, instead of in there, with the President.” 

“Yes. That’s also why you need to be quiet so I don’t get security to escort you back to your offices. Or just not let you into the meeting because you don’t have the proper itinerary.” 

“We were never sent an itinerary.” 

“Oh, so _none_ of you have it.” 

The quartet immediately stopped talking at one another and Clark went back to his typing. Thirteen seconds passed in glorious silence. 

“It’s probably just about SB 490A, that’s coming up tomorrow afternoon for the House.” 

“I thought we had majority?” 

Bruce shrugged at Sam. 

“Maybe we don’t.” 

“… I honestly _hope_ the meeting’s about regaining a majority.” 

Tony nodded. “Right, though?” 

“It’ll be terrible with press.” 

“Sometimes the press need off days, Jean. A boring story’ll do them good.” 

They paused their conversation as Wanda passed through them. 

“Did you know that your brother was here earlier?” 

Wanda turned to face Tony. 

“He stopped by. Did you know that Commander Barnes was with counsel earlier?” 

“I didn’t, but I’m assuming about the Rumlow thing…?”

Wanda tipped her shoulder. “Maybe. All I know is that he was there for three and a half hours.” 

Tony was stopped from answering as Admiral Rhodes and General Danvers walked out of the oval office. The Admiral tipped his head as he passed Tony, and Tony quirked up a smile in return. It was always nice to see Rhodey, even if it had been over a decade since they had been anything more than almost casual acquaintances. 

Clark cleared his throat. 

“The President can see you now, and do try to remember to let her get a word in edgewise.”

##### XI.

A soft knock interrupted his train of thought and he glared up at the culprit. With the only light in his office coming from his computer— and wasn’t that a surprise, last time he had looked up he was sure it had been light outside— it took his eyes a moment to focus on the figure almost hunched in his doorway. 

“Rough day?” he asked the silhouette, a ‘tsk’ coming from his throat in concern. 

He paused for a moment before turning his desk lamp on and standing up, pops from his vertebrae making him wince. 

“More than.” 

He hummed and stretched over half of the couch, beckoning for James to join him. 

“You wanna talk about it?” 

“You’re sweet.” 

Tony snorted and shook his head. “Not hardly. Now come over here, you’re too far away and I’m too lazy to go to you.” 

James shook his head, fond and having to swallow back the pure affection that was emanating from the back of his throat. He dropped his backpack and took off his suit jacket before sprawling over Tony, his head settling somewhere near the crook of the other man’s neck. 

“You’re the sweetest.” 

He mumbled it, Tony shivering beneath him as his breath puffed against Tony’s collar bone. 

“Don’t tell anyone that, James, or I won’t survive another day in the city.” 

“Your secret’s safe with me— I’m not nice enough to let anyone else in on it anyways.” 

Tony hummed in agreement and closed his eyes, letting his brain settle for just a few minutes. It’s not like anything he was doing was—

“Do you have anything important to do tonight?” 

“I was just thinking— no, I don’t.” 

“Come back to my place.” 

“Yeah, I should stop at mine and get a suit.” 

James shook his head and stood up, hauling Tony up with him. “You still have a couple at mine; I’m 99% sure they’re clean.” 

He paused. 

“They don’t smell weird or have any stains, so…” 

“Cleaner than the suits I wear half of the time.” 

Tony shut down his computer, gathering his things as he made sure the screen went black. 

“So why did you take three and a half hours with Nelson and Murdock earlier?” 

James shrugged and hooked his arm through Tony’s as the other man locked up his office. 

“Apparently Rumlow was talking about me and they wanted to see where our stories corroborated and where they differed.” 

Tony frowned. “That sounds serious.” 

“I talked to the guy twice and I spent three and a half hours saying that in different ways. It won’t be a problem, please don’t worry, doll. 

“Besides, it wasn’t even as weird as what happened after.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Steve Rogers showed up in my office.” 

“What?” 

“I know! And honestly, he threw me so off-kilter— I didn’t know he could talk like he does.” 

“Threateningly earnest?” 

James paused and considered it. “That’s an apt description.” 

“Thanks. What did he want?” 

“I’ll tell you in the morning.” 

“Oh my God, babe, you can’t leave me hanging like that.” 

“I can leave you hanging however I want, sweetheart.” 

Tony snorted and nodded at the guard housed in the outer gate office, trying to hail a cab to no avail. 

“Let’s just take the bus home,” James groused, his frown setting in deeper as Tony’s frantic arm movements somehow attracted a taxi. 

“What were you saying?” 

“You’re a cab savant.” 

Tony preened as he slid in the back of the cab, James following in close behind him. 

“I think we have a plan to cut off our problem at the source.” 

It was vague and James looked over at Tony; Tony’s eyes met his in the reflection of the window and James nodded. He felt the presence of the business card in his back pocket more clearly than he had the entire afternoon and evening and he flicked his eyes away from Tony’s to stare out of the windshield.  



End file.
